


i can't stand to be where you don't see me

by starshift



Category: The Breakfast Club (1985)
Genre: 2006, 22 Years Later, Awkwardness, Bender reflects on his life, Brian Johnson - Freeform, Brian is so smart but so fucking dumb, Chicago, Coming Out, Crushes, Gay, John loves to run his mouth, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV John Bender, Sloppy Makeouts, john bender - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:11:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26370148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starshift/pseuds/starshift
Summary: [  John saw his name in the newspaper--in the Chicago Tribune specifically--just written out on the page, stark as linen sheets pressed against the wind.He tried to read the whole article about his supposed successes, but the words became fuzzy once he moved past ‘Brian Johnson.’Rubbing his eyes, he attempted to read the paper again.  ]Or, John Bender reads an article about Brian Johnson's successes and can't help notice the address at the bottom of the page.
Relationships: John Bender & Brian Johnson, John Bender/Brian Johnson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	i can't stand to be where you don't see me

**Author's Note:**

> title from "francis forever" by mitski
> 
> thank you to Steve Jobs (the movie) and John Hughes for making this possible <3
> 
> this took about two weeks and a lot of reading John/Brian fanfic, and it was well worth it. i'm glad i can add to the collection of breakfast club fanfic ;)
> 
> edit: i just realized i set this in 2006, the year brokeback mountain came out. extra gay??? i think so...
> 
> anyway enjoy :))

_ Chicago, 2006 _

John saw his name in the newspaper--in the  _ Chicago Tribune _ specifically--just written out on the page, stark as linen sheets pressed against the wind. He tried to read the whole article about his supposed successes, but the words became fuzzy once he moved past ‘Brian Johnson.’ Rubbing his eyes, he attempted to read the paper again.

_ Brian Johnson: an unaccomplished drop-out of MIT has now become one of the forefathers of Silicon Valley’s booming industry. After unexpectedly dropping out of MIT, he partnered with Michael Feltzberg and created a technological start-up that quickly failed when funds dried out. _

_Johnson was then hired by Apple, a company that was slowly driving itself into the ground after the failure of the Macintosh. The Apple II and the Newton were the two products Johnson helped push, but even after adequate sales and recognition, he still felt there was more to do._

_ So, he partnered up with Michael Feltzburg seven years after their first association and spent only months creating an invaluable piece of technology that would be used in the iMac, a product created by the CEO of Apple, Steve Jobs. Johnson finally had a major success in the 90s, but still, he wanted more.  _

_ He quit Apple and struck off on his own, creating a small company called Breakfast, an unassuming term that would soon become a household namesake. At Breakfast, he helps design specified microchips that hold millions of bits of data, rumored to be a part of a special Apple project. But, only time can tell what Apple will soon release, but we will be sure that Brian Johnson played a major part in the company’s success.  _

_ He now lives a wealthy life in Chicago, traveling to California a few times a month in order to manage his business. When asked why he lives in Chicago instead of where his company is located, he simply stated, “Chicago’s my home. I don’t imagine existing anywhere else.” * _

John set the paper aside and rested his face in cupped hands. After all this time, the brain actually made it to the big leagues, actually decided to get his act together and use his common sense. And he was living here, in Chicago, probably under 15 miles from John. He groaned and pressed harder into his hands. 

_ What would he think about me, after all this time?  _ After all the years they spent silent, too passive to reach out to the other, slowly drifting in and out of each other’s orbits but never crossing or making a connection. The man he had spent pining after--for 22 years--was a taxi or subway ride away, so close John could almost imagine the sharp blues of his eyes and his pout of a mouth. 

_ Get a fucking life _ , his mind screamed, confused by the emotion it harbored for the younger man. John tried to wish it away, but it was simply hopeless. The need to see Brian again was too big, and he hated,  _ despised  _ himself for it. __

John glanced back at the page and noticed there was an address at the bottom.  _ Brian Johnson’s Office _ , it stated, then spouted off a few numbers and a street name that swiftly ingrained itself into John’s mind.

_ It couldn’t hurt, right? Just to see him one more time? _

See, they hadn’t even done anything. Never kissed or fucked or got each other off in Brian’s car, only smoked cigarettes and weed after school in John’s basement or spent the evening studying in Brian’s room. They could’ve done things. John recognized the way Brian looked at him, ‘cause John looked at him the same way. And there  _ were _ moments, fleeting glances and touches that spent sparks down the two boys’ spines, but they never spoke about those moments, always kept those thoughts to themselves. It was torturous and tantalizing and so frustrating at the same time. Still, they trudged on as friends in secret, until the day Brian left for college.

John liked to tell himself he didn’t cry, that he took it like a champ, but he bawled like a fucking baby, even got down on his fucking knees and clutched Brian’s legs like he was some kind of toddler wishing his mommy wouldn’t go to work. Brian, of course, had wept with him and stroked his hair as John sobbed silently until the younger man brought him up by the shoulders and hugged him so tight John swore he saw stars. Their lips almost touched, almost, but they pulled away before anything progressed. And then Brian got into his car and drove away, and John never saw or spoke to him again.

And that was it.

But that couldn’t be all there was, right?

John grabbed his keys and jacket and wallet and headed out the door, jogging down the stairs until he caught a taxi and spouted off the address. It would take him ten minutes. Just ten minutes until he could see that goddamn man again, grab his collar and look him in the eye and spout off every feeling he had concealed, every time Brian had made him horny, impressed, miserable, and all three at the same time. How he had spent 22 years imagining how he would take Brian over the counter, in his bed, in the shower, fuck him hard until he was a puddle of moans and tears and John was forced to kiss all the hurt away.

He would tell him. ‘Cause he was John  _ fucking _ Bender, the inscrutable, intimidating asshole who insulted anyone who stepped in his way and didn’t give a fuck who got hurt. Except, he gave one fuck to one specific person, the only person he had allowed to tear him apart. He was probably doomed, honestly. But John would rather get turned down than to never take a chance at all.

***

There  _ had _ been other people, of course. 

A dark-skinned girl for five months when he first started working as a mechanic, a relationship that ended when she realized what an asshole John really was. She used to say ‘I hate you’--joking at first--until her pent-up anger at John’s actions became volatile and the phrase turned sinister. They broke up after a fight around three in the morning. He never loved her.

Next, there was a guy. Brooding, handsome, controlling, and so easy to fall prey to. John had never felt more vulnerable in his life, but he seemed to like the way the other man took control. Apparently, he was also Allison’s cousin, who came over for dinner a few times. They lasted nine months until John caught him with someone else. He never loved him.

Then there was Colin. Shy, curly red hair that glinted in the sunlight, doe eyes, the whole shebang. He was short and wore glasses and brayed like a donkey when he laughed. They lasted three years. John found himself falling at times, but he never tipped over the edge, never took the final leap of faith. He always found himself breaking down walls for Colin, softening his edges for the other man, which was quite unexpected for him. Colin liked to help him with that; he took his hand and swung it around as they walked, nestled his curls into John’s chest and wrapped his arms around his waist, and made love quietly to him at least every night. They broke up when Colin realized John would never feel the same way. He never loved him, but he could’ve.

John changed the most from that romance, but never had another serious relationship, only miscellaneous hook-ups with men who wore geeky shirts and liked to sweep John’s hair behind his ear. But, that was seven years ago, and John stopped trying to find someone once he realized they’d never be the one, never be the man he had spent years thinking about.

Now, he owned a small business in the heart of Chicago, where he and various outcast employees fixed up cars. It didn’t pay much, but it was enough for John.

Checking his watch, he realized there were about two minutes left of the ride and he needed to think of something better to say to Brian than just telling him how much he wanted to dick him down. But hey, if it came down to that, John wouldn’t be against telling him all about it and then enacting at least one of his fantasies on Brian’s desk.

He sat back and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck absentmindedly and staring out the window.  _ How has so much time passed?  _ It seemed only yesterday John sat in detention with four other freakshows and wasted the day away talking about their problems. When he reached his house after detention, he spent a good hour thinking about Brian. About his stupid fucking lamp and the flare gun that went off in his locker. He found Brian the next Monday at school and helped him fix the lamp, which he earned a B on after the shop teacher took pity on him. Brian then invited John over to his house to study, which John refused to do, and instead offered Brian to smoke weed with him. He agreed. 

That day after school was the beginning of the end for John. He didn’t understand his feelings at the time since he didn’t know he preferred people of the male gender--he did now, very much--so he wrote the affection off as strong friendship. They were buddies, pals, allies. Only in secret though, ‘cause John still had a sliver of reputation to maintain. 

***

The taxi screeched to a halt next to the sidewalk, filled with bustling people dressed in business suits with slacks and slicked-back hair and boisterous voices on flip phones. John paid the driver a 20 and proceeded to hop out of the taxi and almost run into someone, who gave him a  _ ‘what the hell, man?’  _ look as he walked away. 

Brushing  _ that  _ interaction off, John went through the revolving door and entered the quiet lobby. It was modern, impartial, sanitized down to each sharp corner of the main desk, and cushioned waiting chairs. John took a glance at the directory and found  _ Brian Johnson - Floor 17, Office #5  _ written towards the top of the board. 

He set off towards the elevators, whose doors openly greeted him, and stood there frozen for a second, wondering what in the actual hell he was doing.  _ What the fuck? what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck.  _ John stepped into the elevator, and another man did too, wrapped up in his newspaper and precariously tilted coffee. 

He noticed that John never pressed a button, so he grumbled out “what floor are you on?” and John said 17. The other man was the same. 

The elevator clanked and off they went, traveling up the building to what felt like John’s final destination. He was sticky with sweat--hanging under his armpits and the nape of his neck--and his swallows were audible, which made him cringe and swallow even louder. It was torture, it was the seventh level of hell, and he was irrationally scared out of his mind for no reason at all.  _ I mean, how bad could this be? _ The logical side of his mind implored, while the other half was screaming and tearing out its metaphorical hair.

A sharp  _ ding!  _ echoed throughout the elevator, and the doors to hell opened once again. The other man swiftly moved down the hall, and John trailed after him. 

John watched the man say hello to his secretary--Sally--and his secretary said back to him, “good morning Mr. Johnson,” in the sweetest, sugar-coated voice a person could possibly have.  _ Mr. Johnson _ opened the door to  _ Office #5  _ and promptly closed it behind him.

“Fucking hell,” John whispered, and slowly moved towards the secretary. He didn’t want to have to think about how  _ BRIAN JOHNSON  _ was in the elevator with him. Shoving his hands in his pockets, John cleared his throat and spoke up. “Hi. I’m here to see Brian Johnson.”

Sally glanced up and took in his dark blue jeans, tan flannel, and hair that would never lay flat, no matter how much product John used. He clearly looked like a mess, but in all 24 years of Sally’s life, she had seen men much worse than John Bender. 

She smiled politely. “Do you have an appointment?”

“Uh, no I don’t, I do not. Um.” John smiled and leaned in close. “Just tell him it's an old friend. Please.” He wasn’t a frequent user of that word, but he guessed it was impartial in this kind of situation. 

Sally smiled and nodded and shot out John’s message through the intercom. John smiled, polite as usual, and stepped through the door.

Brian, the fucking dweeb, was caught up reading his article and wearing a grin bigger than his face. “Hey Andy, have you read this  _ stunning _ revie--”

Brian looked up, his jaw opening, and he sat there frozen, staring at a face he never thought he’d see again, much less talk to on the telephone.  _ Holy shit. _

John leaned over his desk and closed his mouth with a finger. “You’ll catch flies with your jaw open like that, dumbass. Or at least, you’ll catch something.” He fell back into a chair and tapped his fingers on the armrests. “So, what’s up brain?”

“Bender,” was all Brian could manage to say without stuttering too much or becoming flustered, or  _ god forbid,  _ blushing. He was 39 for fuck’s sake. 

“It’s John now.”

“Oh, uh, sorry. John.”

“No problemo, Bri. So how have you been? How’s  _ 39  _ treating you? I have to say, 39 fits you pretty well. Don’t remember you looking this hot since your fucking chem project blew up in your face.” John’s mouth started moving without any thought behind it like it did when he was 17 and  _ Bender _ , the friendly neighborhood criminal. 

Brian’s face became a blotchy pink, and it was a few moments before he was able to get anything out. “It’s good.”

“Good?  _ Good?  _ Fuck man, I read your fucking article this morning and found out you’re this successful computer guy! Congratulations, dude. I always knew you’d accomplish something eventually, but you blew this out the fuckin’ water. Probably have girls throwin’ themselves at you, all like ‘Brian, you’re so sexy, please fuck us’ or some shit.”

“I’m gay,” Brian blurted out before he could actually have a chance for something reasonable to say  _ (FUCK YOU, BRAIN!) _ He clapped a hand over his mouth, almost involuntarily, like his brain knew he done fucked up, and fucked up good.

John’s eyes widened. “Oh? Oh. Oh my god. I’m basically gay too. Found out I liked guys and haven’t really gone back, I guess. Don’t why I’m telling you this, I’m sorry, I should go.” 

He started to stand up from his chair as Brian grasped his arm from across the desk. John held his breath and looked into Brian’s eyes, still the same as they’ve always been. Crystal clear blue, like soft waves rolling upon the shore without a care in the world, drifting in and out and in and out.

“Please don’t go,” Brian whispered. 

“Okay.” John sat back into his seat and watched as Brian did too, readjusting his stupid fucking tie and sweeping back a piece of his hair behind his ear. Thank fucking god for Brian’s hair, which was curly and blond as ever. John’s was the same, just a little bit shorter, but he liked to keep it long, even after all the years that’ve passed since he first wore the style. 

“So, you have a boyfriend or something?  _ Domestic partnership _ , perhaps?”

Brian smiled a bit and let out a deep breath. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend or something, John. What about you?”

“I’m hopelessly stuck on the past and haven’t really found anything that’s lasted. You know, common bullshit.”

“The past? You mean Claire?”

John chuckled and leaned back in his chair, peeking at the red blush creeping its way up Brian’s neck. “For such a smart man, you sure are stupid.”

“What? What do you mean?”

Leaning forward so he could fold his hands neatly on Brian’s desk, John spoke again. “Come on, Brian. Use your head.”

Brian decided to shake his head, then stopped once he met John’s eyes, which dipped down to Brian’s mouth then back again to his eyes. It was a small movement, a teeny-tiny gesture that could’ve easily been missed, but Brian’s stupid ass brain decided to watch it, recognize it, catalog it, and send it straight to his dick.  _ Fucking hopeless.  _

“Really?”

John smiled, big and wide. “Real as a fat kid who loves chocolate cake.”

Brian sat back and sighed. “You know that Andy’s married, right?”

Standing up in his chair, John laughed, big and loud, gritting his teeth together and wondering how the  _ FUCK  _ the man he loved was so academically smart but such a fuck nut when it came to pure, common sense. “It’s you, Brian!” He yelled, probably a little bit too loud. “It’s… It’s always been fucking you. And I tried, for so long, not to… but I do. And I can’t hold in it any longer, it’s been 22 years and I can’t do it anymore. So, either you fuckin’ tell me you’ve been harboring feelings for me too under all that freakishly, nerdy, sexy exterior, or I’m walking out of this door!”

Brian’s jaw, once again, dropped.

John sighed and moved to close it. “I told you asshole, you’re gonna catch flies like--”

Brian grabbed John’s hand before it could reach his mouth and gripped it a little too hard for John’s liking.

“John,” he said, but the other man wouldn’t meet his eyes.  _ “John.” _

John finally looked up into Brian’s eyes. 

“I had no idea,” Brain began, scratching the back of his neck with his open hand. “I had no idea you felt this way about me. I… I had a crush on you, back in high school, back when you intimidated me and pinned your attention on everything I did and… I had no idea you felt the same.” He chuckled and softened his grip on John’s hand, winding the two together.

John was just about ready to fall over. He was ready to make a confession, but not for Brian to make one too. It would all be too much to handle if it wasn’t Brian, if it was someone else, anyone else confessing to him. Brian had this way of grounding him, of keeping him calm, and at the same time making him chatter away until he was a sweaty mess of nerves. John started to walk around the desk toward Brian.

“And I don’t know what’s going to happen exactly, but I’m willing to… I don’t know. Make a life with you, if you want. If you want that, if that’s something you… want.”

John smiled as he reached the other end of the desk and squeezed Brian’s hand. “I’d do anything to make a life with you, Bri.”  _ Where the hell did that come from? _ John thought, taken back by his sincerity. It  _ was  _ true, but it still made his heart beat faster.

Brain sighed under his breath and realized he was about an inch taller than the other man.  _ At least I have something on him.  _ “Anything?” He implored, daring to untangle his hand from Bender’s and wrap his arms around his neck.

Bender smiled brighter this time and put his arms around Brian’s waist. “Anything.”

Leaning in, Brian nuzzled his nose against Bender’s left cheek and tightened his grip on his neck, sliding his hands up to thread them through Bender’s hair.

Bender was the one to close the distance, to tilt his head a little to the right and close his mouth around Brian’s, just the smallest touch. His lips were soft, softer than any other person he had kissed. They fit just right against Bender’s mouth and opened once Bender decided to push his tongue against them. He licked into Brian’s opened mouth and along his teeth, a moan escaping Brian’s lips and sparking fire in the pit of Bender’s stomach and pooling towards his dick.

John pushed Brian down into the chair and scrambled after him to sit in his lap. Their lips reconnected with a small groan, and they melted into each other’s arms as John licked into the back of Brian’s mouth.

“Can’t believe I’m kissing you,” Brain whispered into his lover’s mouth. Moving off his lips, he directed his attention to John’s ear, softly nipping the tender parts and running his tongue beneath. 

John chuckled and held tighter to Brian, slowly rocking their hips together and feeling the outline of Brian’s cock pressed against his pants. “You have no idea. I should…” he laughed again and leaned into Brian’s soft lips mouthing along his neck. “I should buy you dinner first or something. I had this idea when I was driving over of fucking you against your desk, but… I wanna talk before we get in over our heads.”

Brain pulled away from John's neck and peered into his eyes. “That sounds good. As long as you take me somewhere respectable, Bender.”

The other man rolled his eyes and placed a quick kiss to Brian’s lips. “I’m the epitome of respect. I’m so respectful, I even know what the word epitome means and how to use it.” He slowly stood up from Brian’s lap, reluctant and wishing his dick wasn’t aching so hard.

“But we’re having sex after. You owe me.”

John helped Brian stand up and gave his ass a quick squeeze. “Don’t you worry honey, you’ll get what’s coming.”

Rolling his eyes mockingly, Brian leaned down the extra inch and laid one on John. “That a promise?”

“No. It’s a guarantee.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm planning to write zukka fanfic next cause i just finished avatar: the last airbender... and zukka is such a good ship. it might be folklore by taylor swift inspired, so heads up for that :)
> 
> hope you enjoyed!! i'm glad i could write a one-shot without feeling the need for adding chapters or parts. sometimes it's better to just give a small glimpse into a story, instead of completely outlining every detail. 
> 
> please comment, leave kudos, all that cool stuff, it makes my day! means a lot to me :)


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